Claiming Calypso
by Dan Sickles
Summary: How can Calypso convince the gods that the hero Odysseus belongs in her bed and not at home in Ithaca? By making him want her so badly that he accepts an impossible challenge! Rated T for steamy sex and adult adventures!


CLAIMING CALYPSO

_This is the story of Calypso and how she got her man Odysseus after all. Please comment nicely!_

PROLOGUE

Little boys play with toys to learn and grow. Men play with toys to keep their sanity. Crouching on the golden sands of the pristine beach, Odysseus slowly shaped a boat of twigs with his enormous, war-weary hands. Toiling on tiny tasks that had no purpose let him forget that he was far from home, separated from his wife and son, the unwilling slave of a cruel enchantress. Calypso was the witch who ruled this island, and she demanded nightly tribute in the silken seclusion of her bed. But the one-time King of Ithaca was determined to escape the wily witch and return to the sea. Tonight he would refuse to climb into the perfumed bath with the laughing, blue-eyed goddess. Never again would he run his rough, blunt fingers through her golden hair, or rain down kisses on her bountiful bouncing breasts. Soon he would teach the witch-woman who was master once and for all. He would build a full-size boat and sail away, escaping from the prison of her loving embrace.

"Ha!" The shapely white foot of the witch scattered the boat of twigs across the sand. Calypso was standing there looking down on him, bare-breasted, her golden hair loose and unbound, hanging all the way down to her slender waist. With her hands on her hips she looked cruel and arrogant and bewitchingly beautiful. Yet when she spoke to him there was an almost pleading look in her eyes. Her husky voice thrilled him. "Foolish Odysseus, why do you waste your time on toys? Why are you not catching fish for our dinner, or gathering flowers to adorn the bed we now share?"

"You have many hand-maidens who can perform those tasks," Odysseus replied, slowly getting to his feet. "But they are your slaves, and I am not. I will not be ruled like a child, lovely goddess. I am a man and if you do not respect me I will warm your bottom with my bare hands."

"You talk like a foolish child," Calypso replied, smiling. "To tame a goddess like me is beyond your strength, or the strength of any mortal man. To spank my bottom you must catch me."

Fleet of foot and laughing, the blonde witch sped across the sands. Odysseus knew it was pointless to give chase. What man could best an immortal in a foot race? But something about the way the goddess teased and tempted him made the urge to catch her stronger than the urge to escape. Before he truly knew what he was doing Odysseus was running at full speed after his cruel jailer.

"Now I've got you!" Odysseus had brought down many a seasoned warrior before the walls of Troy. Yet no triumph on the battlefield ever brought him as much satisfaction as catching the laughing, long-legged goddess in his arms. The two of them tumbled in a tangled heap onto the warm golden sands.

"Mercy! Brave Odysseus, have mercy on your helpless slave!" Still laughing, Calypso wriggled and struggled to get free. The blonde goddess sprawled in the sand, face down. She wanted to roll over on her back, so she could throw her arms around the shipwrecked castaway's neck. She wanted to pull him down on top of her, so she could feel his great weight crushing her breasts.

"No mercy for you, naughty goddess!" Instead of letting her up, Odysseus began spanking her bottom. It was easy to pin her to the sand with one hand pressing down against the small of her back, while with the other he rained down blows that stung and made her gasp and squirm. Odysseus only used the flat of his hand, knowing that no mortal man had the right to cause harm to one of the immortals. Calypso was selfish and vain, but the love-greedy goddess had never truly hurt him.

"Mighty Odysseus, have mercy!" Calypso felt a surge of triumph as the burn on her butt cheeks started a fire deep within her womanly core. The virtuous king of Ithaca might pine for his wife and child, but every time he spanked her bottom the two of them ended up making love. Calypso didn't mind the stinging pain of his hand on her buttocks; in fact she rather enjoyed it. The burning sensation made her tingle from head to toe. Odysseus was always hot to take her after a spanking, whether it was on the golden sands of her private beach or within the curtained confines of her silken bed. Calypso adored the feeling of having him on top of her, and inside of her. It was truly she who commanded here, even when the mortal man thought he was disciplining her according to his own desires. For no matter how he tried, when he spanked her Odysseus could never resist the urge to take her afterwards, just as he had so often taken his wife Penelope at home in Ithaca. A man needed a wife, but a hero like Odysseus deserved so much more than a mortal woman.

He deserved a goddess!

"Naughty, naughty goddess, how many times must I spank your behind?" Panting with exertion, the king of Ithaca redoubled his efforts, wishing that he could quench the fire in his own loins. Odysseus wanted Calypso. His cock was throbbing for her even as his arms were growing tired. He hated himself for spanking the blue-eyed witch, because with each resounding smack his own loins seemed to swell and harden with desire. There was no way to escape when the excitement of punishing her always led to hours of pleasure in her bed. So many mornings he had awakened late, tangled in her silken bedsheets, with the sated goddess sleeping peacefully beside him. At such moments Odysseus forgot he even had a wife at home. Lying beside the long-legged goddess he experienced a contentment that no mortal man could ever imagine. But this time it would be different. This time he would pray to the gods to help him break the spell.

And all at once it seemed his prayers were answered.

"Stop it, you two! Stop it at once!" The voice was that of a young male, but it was soft and timid rather than deep and commanding. Odysseus looked up to see a slender pair of sandaled feet, but the sandals had little wings on them that fluttered like butterflies in the sweet breeze of the sea.

"Hail to thee, Hermes, messenger of the gods! I would rise to offer hospitality, but . . . but this god-like warrior is holding me captive." Even sprawled in the sand, cunning Calypso was in control. She flattered and teased at the same time, making Odysseus sound mighty and paying homage to the slim boy-god who ran messages back and forth between earth and Mount Olympus.

"Both of you must stop this roughhousing at once," the boy-god said, in his prissy way. "I have important news concerning the will of the gods and the family that brave Odysseus left behind in Ithaca. Zeus himself has sent me."

"We will gladly hear your news and counsel in our cave," Odysseus replied, helping Calypso to her feet. Taking her small white hand in his made his heart skip a beat, and the moment the words were out of his mouth he realized he had blundered. This island was not his, and he was not joined to Calypso by marriage. Why did her touch distract him? Why had he spoken of the cave in that way?

"The cave we share as husband and wife," Calypso clarified, clinging to his mighty arm. The enchantress was actually giggling as they strolled up the beach together behind wing-footed Hermes.

Odysseus could not share Calypso's laughter. Nor could he shake off the gentle grasp of the goddess. He had the strength, but his heart was troubled. Hermes brought news from Ithaca, and that could only mean his wife and son were in trouble. It was his fault he had stayed away so long. The gods had cursed him with storms and bad luck, yet the touch of Calypso even now filled him with such pleasure that he could not regret a moment spent in her arms. By the time they reached the cave Calypso's arm was around his waist and his stiff cock was swelling and straining against the softness of his loincloth. The foolish foot race and that interrupted spanking on the beach had done nothing to quench her desire, or his. Even the thought of facing Zeus' displeasure did not trouble him as much as the thought of parting with Calypso. No more wild nights. No more quiet mornings in her bed.

"Would you care for a cup of ambrosia, gentle Hermes?" Calypso was both a goddess and a witch, and she could easily have snapped her fingers to make the celestial liquor appear at once. Yet once they were inside the cave, she wrapped herself modestly in a becoming robe and took on the role of housewife, bustling back and forth and filling golden cups from a jug she kept on the shelf. The cunning goddess sometimes took a strange pleasure in performing ordinary household tasks.

"Beautiful goddess, your kindness and hospitality are much appreciated." Hermes drank daintily from his cup. "I am sure that Zeus himself would be pleased with this ambrosia, for on Mount Olympus we gods eat and drink nothing but the celestial liquor."

"It is not my place to eat and drink with gods," Odysseus said, looking Hermes in the eye. The two of them were facing each other at a small wooden table which Odysseus had built with his own hands. Calypso stood behind the hulking warrior with the heavy clay jug still in her hands. "Wing-footed Hermes, you know well that the sea god Poseidon destroyed my ship and killed my companions. Yet if the mighty Zeus will give me leave, I will depart from this island at once. The goddess Calypso has been a true friend to me, rescuing me from the sea after my ship was lost and all my men drowned. I love her for her great beauty and I honor her for her gracious ways and kindness. Yet I have no wish to offend the gods by living as the immortals do and enjoying endless pleasure."

"Gracious ways my foot," Calypso muttered. "You talk of leaving me and then talk about how good and kind I am. It's lucky for you I am good and kind, my mouth-watering lover. If I were a jealous mortal woman, Odysseus, I'd break this jug of ambrosia right over your head!"

"Break my head and how will we make love when Hermes has gone?" Odysseus pulled the blonde, full-breasted goddess into his lap, squeezing her shoulders and looking deep into her eyes. "Gracious lady, neither one of us can disobey the will of Zeus, the mightiest of the gods."

"But I don't want you to leave me!" Calypso's hands shook as she set the big jug on the table. Her crystal-blue eyes overflowed with tears, and war-weary Odysseus reached up to stroke her cheek, forgetting that only a moment ago he had been talking of leaving her once and for all.

"Good friends, I think you misunderstand the purpose of my visit." Hermes cleared his throat. "Zeus is king of the gods, it is true. And he does not like it when a lovely goddess keeps a mortal man prisoner against his will. However, I have news for Odysseus from Ithaca, his far-off home."

"What news?" Odysseus gently eased the tearful goddess off his lap, unhappily remembering his sacred obligations as a husband and father. "Is my wife Penelope in danger? Does my son Telemachus need my help?"

"Well, not exactly." The boyish messenger god squirmed in his seat, looking embarrassed. "The truth is, mighty Odysseus, things have changed in Ithaca since you left. There were many prosperous men, suitors for your wife's hand, who wished to take your place in Penelope's bed."

"Jackals," Odysseus muttered. "When I get home to Ithaca I'll kill every one of them! Not even Zeus himself could stop me . . ."

"Careful, mortal man," Calypso counseled, slipping behind Odysseus' large throne-like chair. Her tears had stopped, and she wasted no time putting her lovely white hands on his bare shoulders. "No-one can defy the king of the gods. Perhaps he does not wish for you to kill all those men."

"There is no need for anger," the boy-god said quickly. "You see, Penelope and another woman joined forces and were able to outwit the suitors. I believe her name is Pandora, the lady poet of Lesbos. The two of them are now ruling Ithaca together, and they live together like man and wife."

"What?" Odysseus felt as though Zeus had just struck him with a lightning bolt. "But no woman can take a man's place in bed! Surely this is madness! I must journey home at once and . . ."

"Foolish mortal, you would only cause humiliation to yourself and sadness for your wife." Hermes spoke gently, but his eyes were full of pitiless truth. "Penelope submitted to your embraces in bed because it was her duty, and because she wanted a child. But now she has found true happiness, happiness that is right for her and that she has earned. Do not take it from her by force."

"But she was my wife!" The mighty hero groaned, bowing his head. "It was my duty to return to her, to protect her no matter what the cost. Those are the rules men live by. I was her husband!"

"Times change, my love," Calypso said, stroking the thick muscles at the back of his neck. The mighty king of Ithaca sobbed bitterly, hiding his sun-bronzed, weather-beaten visage in his big battle-scarred hands. Deep, wrenching sobs shook his mighty frame for what seemed an eternity, and all the while the blonde witch-woman soothed him like a child. "Hush, my wise and noble king. Hush, bravest and handsomest of mortal men. Times change, Odysseus. Times change."

"But what of my son?" Odysseus looked up at last, his eyes red with weeping. "What has happened to my son? It was his right to rule in Ithaca! Has my wife killed him or driven him away?"

"No, she has not," Hermes said quietly. "Telemachus went away of his own free will, not wanting to deprive his mother of the right to rule or to choose a worthy female successor. The wise young man journeyed to visit Menelaus and his wife Helen, whom you know from Troy. He sought their counsel, and they offered to make him their heir, since they have no children of their own."

"Has the world gone mad?" Odysseus asked, in a choked voice. "Have mortal men and women forgotten how to honor the gods? Doesn't anybody give a shit about the rules anymore?"

"It sounds like the rules are changing," said clever Calypso, ruffling the wavy brown hair of the hard-muscled hero she adored. "Perhaps the world is changing too, and for the better. Odysseus, do you not see what this means? Zeus is not angry at us. There is no reason for you to leave my lovely island or my loving arms. The two of us can go right on living in harmony and enjoying ourselves until the end of time!"

"Well, yes. That is to say, perhaps that could be arranged, if certain conditions were met," Hermes said, in his stuffy way. "Mighty Zeus is willing to consider the possibility of making Odysseus an immortal and allowing him to remain on this island for eternity. But first, the wise and battle-tested king of Ithaca is going to have to prove to the gods that he wishes to remain here of his own free will, and not merely because he has been blinded by lust or enslaved by the spells of a beautiful witch. The two of you are going to have to prove your love."

"Do you want to watch us having sex?" Calypso asked, giving the boy god a bad-girl smile. She hovered over him as she refilled his cup with sweet-scented ambrosia, her ripe, rounded breasts nearly poking the messenger god in the eye as they strained to escape the confines of her silken robe.

"None of that, goddess," Odysseus growled. "I'll spank your bottom if you show your splendid body to this divinely handsome young god. The messenger of the gods is not some weak mortal man you can tempt and mislead with your beauty. How does Zeus wish to test us, Hermes?"

Hermes preened, clearly flattered by Odysseus' gracious remarks. "Worthy king of Ithaca, all the gods of Olympus know you as the wisest of mortals. Unlike Achilles or Agamemnon, you never let pride or lust cloud your judgment. Calypso is outwardly the most beautiful of women, but do you know her heart? If you encountered her in some far-off land, in some far-off time, do you think your love for her would be just as strong as it is here on this beautiful island, where she rules supreme?"

"Odysseus would know me anywhere," Calypso stated confidently, once again standing behind Odysseus' throne-like chair and resting her hands on the brawny warrior's bare shoulders. "His wisdom would lead him to me, and our hearts would overcome every obstacle. My brave Odysseus would save me if I were in danger. And if I were naughty, he would spank me!"

"Indeed." Odysseus patted the hand on his shoulder. "How may we put this to the test?"

"The two of you must do exactly as I tell you," Hermes said, leaning forward in his chair. "After I am gone, you may make love as much as you like, but taste no food until the day is done. In the last golden light of the setting sun, journey together to the top of the highest hill on the island. On the way you may gather fruit for your evening meal. Build a bonfire, make it as large as you can, and eat the ripe red and gold fruit of the island. Afterwards, you may make love a final time in the glow of the flames. But when sleep comes, the two of you must be wrapped in each other's arms, and then in your dreams you will face the ultimate test. Three times the gods will send you into strange worlds, worlds that may yet come to pass in centuries to come. You will have different names, different faces, yet your hearts will be the same. If your loves proves true, you will resist all temptation and overcome all obstacles. And in the morning Zeus will grant Odysseus immortality and allow him to remain here on this island, with beautiful Calypso as his wife for all time to come."

"We accept the challenge," Odysseus said gravely. "Thank you, wing-footed Hermes."

"What a night of triumph this will be!" Calypso exulted, after the gracious boy-god had said goodbye. "What could be easier than making love and spending the night in each other's arms?"

"Do not be too quick to rejoice, lovely goddess." The king of Ithaca turned to look at the witch-woman who had been holding him captive for months. "I will never be certain I am yours until the morning comes. We do not know what terrible monsters we may face in our dreams."

"You can conquer any monster," Calypso said, stroking the shipwrecked hero's sun-bronzed cheek. "Remember how you bested the cruel Cyclops? Remember how you outwitted the Sirens?"

"Yes, of course." Odysseus took Calypso's fingers into his mouth one by one, sucking deeply. His cunning made her close her eyes and moan with pleasure. But even as the lovely goddess sat down on his lap and spread her legs wide, the mortal man was filled with gloomy forebodings. Odysseus knew the gods were cunning, and that they would use his strength against him. What if the foes he faced in his dreams were not monsters, but rather his own beliefs, his sense of duty and his manly pride? Odysseus understood the ways of men in many cities and many strange lands. What if the laws of future ages or his own unchanging principles stood in the way of recognizing the goddess when she appeared with a new name and face? Would he claim her? Could he claim her without violating the code he lived by? Could he seize the chance for love and eternal bliss without breaking the rules that made him a man of honor?

"Yes," Calypso moaned, as though answering his questions with the wisdom of a goddess. Actually she was coming to a climax with her eyes closed, lost in the enjoyment of his hard strength pumping inside her, deeper and deeper with each thrust. "Oh, yes, Odysseus. Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

Odysseus knew it was going to be a very long night.


End file.
